Mr Mehmet’s POV The chief’s office was dim, the blinds half-closed and cutting the late afternoon light into thin grey stripes across the floor. Dust floated lazily through the air each time the radiator clicked on. The whole room smelled faintly of old coffee, paper, and the weight of unsolved cases. Chief Serdar Kılıç sat behind his massive oak desk, shoulders rigid, eyes sharpened by exhaustion and something much older. I closed the door behind me and stepped inside. Chief Serdar did not bother with pleasantries. “What happened, Mr. Mehmet?” Serdar said as he looked up from the stack of papers in front of him. His voice was clipped, but there was a tremor under it, the kind that comes from too much stress and too little sleep. I walked toward the desk, keeping my voice low. “I just came from speaking with Emre,” I said. “And things are escalating faster than expected.” Serdar’s brows drew together. “Escalating how?” “Manolya confessed,” I said. I watched his reaction, th
ปรับปรุงล่าสุด : 2026-03-19 อ่านเพิ่มเติม